


december never felt so wrong

by jimin97



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Winter fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimin97/pseuds/jimin97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall's not <em>actually</em> alone on Christmas, Liam and Louis and Harry were all with him. He just <em>really</em> wished Zayn could've made it, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	december never felt so wrong

**Author's Note:**

> 12 Days of Ziall Christmas oneshot, title from Sara Bareilles' Winter Song

Niall likes to relax.

He likes sitting in his nook, legs stretched out on the cushion, arms resting on the windowsill. He likes watching the spring rain soak the ground, summer breeze rustling in the trees, leaves falling to the grass in the autumn.

Niall especially likes looking outside during winter time. He likes the way snowflakes stick together when they fall, blanketing the ground in a sheet of white, how icicles form, how they drip until they crack down the middle. Sometimes, he likes cracking the window open, poking his nose through and getting a fresh breath of crisp winter air.

Niall's favorite part of the window, though, was when he'd feel hands on his hips, warm in contrast to the cold air outside. He'd turn around, soft lips enveloping his own, hands moving up to caress his face.

"Zayn," he'd say, "Missed you babe." Even if he'd just seen Zayn minutes before.

"Missed you too, love," Zayn would reply, kissing Niall again.

Some days, Zayn would sit with him and watch the snow. "So pretty," Zayn stared in wonder, and Niall would take his eyes off of the window, marvel at Zayn's beauty instead. "So, so pretty."

It's Christmas day and Niall's in his nook, eyes staring out the window, not focused on anything in particular. He's half expecting Zayn to show up, kiss his neck, whisper, "Let's go have dinner, love," but he didn't.

Because for once in his life, Niall was alone on Christmas.

Niall wasn't _actually_ alone on Christmas, Liam and Louis and Harry were all with him. He just _really_ wished Zayn could've made it, too.

"Niall," someone calls, and for a second he thinks it might be Zayn.

It's not.

"What's up, Liam?"

"You can't stare out that window all day, Niall, it's Christmas! Come on, Louis made roast chicken with those baked vegetables you really like, and Harry's making eeggnog. Plus, we've gotta open presents." Liam looks at him pleadingly.

 _Zayn would understand_ , Niall thinks. Zayn would've joined him by the window, too.

"I'm coming," he tells Liam, smiling.

Niall follows him into the dining room, scents of Christmas dinner filling his nose. Marinade from the chicken, seasoning from the vegetables, cinnamon in the eggnog—Zayn's favorite.

Zayn really really liked Christmas dinner. Was his favorite part of Christmas, he told Niall once.

Niall remembers taking Zayn to his parents' house for Christmas one year, introducing Zayn to his family. Zayn was nervous, shaking, until Maura gave him a hug.

"Welcome to the family," she told him, "I hope you like potatoes."  
Zayn laughed, and so did everyone else. "Niall told me that you make the best food in town, Mrs. Horan."

"Call me mum," she said. "It would be nice to be called mum after some people—" she looked at Niall and Greg then, "have taken to calling me Maura."

They sat and had dinner, Niall holding Zayn's hand under the table when he started drumming his fingers on the table, rubbing circles into Zayns thumbs to ease his nerves.

Zayn did all the right things, laughed when Bobby told a joke, smiled whenever Nan told him an embarrassing baby story, even said, "Compliments to the chef," with a wink at Maura, making her smile bigger than Niall had seen her smile in a long time.

As they were leaving, Maura grabbed Niall's shoulder, whispered, "He's a keeper, honey."

"Niall!" Bobby called. "You should come home more often, bring Zayn with you too."

"Sure thing, Bob." Maura glared at him. "Pop, I meant pop."

Bobby hugged Zayn, told him to keep Niall in check and definitely come over—with or without Niall.

"Sure thing, Sir." Now Maura glared at Zayn. "Pop, I meant Pop," he corrected himself, blushing.

"Niall?" Someone called. "Earth to Niall, time to eat!" Louis.

Niall snaps back to the present, takes a seat across from Harry, carves the chicken that Louis made.

Niall eats because he has to, doesn't want the others questioning him or anything. He's zoned out, chewing the chicken that he's sure tastes amazing but doesn't really care for, listening to the casual conversation about some new spice Louis added to the marinade, hears someone call his name and say some words, but they don't register.

He doesn't realize that he's in the conversation until someone—Louis—snaps his fingers in Niall's face.

"Well? How is it?" He asks.  
"What? How's what?" Niall hasn't got a clue what he's talking about, stays clueless until Harry gestures to the food.

"Oh, right. The food. Really good chicken, Louis. Really good." It's an empty compliment, but Louis takes it anyway.

Louis smiles, "Why thank you, Niall. Lads, you ought to learn some manners from Niall here."

Harry throws a diced potato at him.

"How's that for manners?" Harry asks.

"Guys!" Liam scolds, and Louis and Harry both throw potato at him.

After dinner, the four of them sit by the tree, ready to exchange gifts.

Harry opens his gifts first, a pair of boots from Liam, some headbands and a journal from Niall, a dildo from Louis (he's _kidding_ , he says, hands Harry some old vinyls afterwards. Harry keeps the dildo, though).

Louis gets new cleats, a jersey, and most notably some strawberry flavored lube and a nice fleece from Harry (those jokers).

Liam gets books, some boxing gloves, tennis gear.

Niall gets FIFA 14, and album with their oldest memories, tickets to see the Rams the next time they played.

Harry grabs the eggnog for everyone, and Louis pulls out a bottle of dark rum. "A little more kick," he says, "We could all use it."

It's a while later, and they're all drunk as ever, having finished the eggnog and moved on to their own liquor of choice.

Louis starts singing Christmas carols, burping between every few words, Harry joining him.

"All I want for Christmas— iiiiiissss yoooouuuu!" They harmonize, and, being honest, it could've been worse.

"Once upon a time, that was my favorite Christmas song, and now you two have ruined it for me. Thank you." Liam comments, face pulled into a jokingly sour expression.

Louis glares at him, grabs the poker from its holder, and, well, pokes Liam with it.

"Jesus!"

"Thou shalt not say the Lord's name in vain!" Harry says, mocking surprise.

They play games and tell stories, talk about the first time they all met and wonder if they'll ever get sick of each other.

"Remember that time Louis gave Zayn half a sandwich for his birthday?" Harry asks, laughing drunkenly.

"He was so disappointed," Louis remembers, "Until I gave him that one book—what was it? Then he was happy again."

"I'm still mad at him for not being here, just had to go right before Christmas."

Tell me about it, Niall thinks.

"Pass me the rum," Niall orders, " Need me some rum." He takes his phone out, texts Zayn

_Hey babe gonna see ya in a bit! still sad u cldnt come over! merry Xmas ! xx_

Niall finishes the rum, the liquid burning his throat on its way down. He lies on on the floor, stomach bloated from all the food.

Liam puts on _It's A Wonderful Life_ even though they'd seen it just hours before, but everybody's too tired to protest. The four of them end up falling asleep on the floor, bodies lain across one another, bottles decorating the carpet and the movie still playing in the background.

Niall wakes up to Clarence revealing himself as George's guardian angel on the TV.

He looks at his phone. **3:07 A.M**. _Shit_ , he thinks, _I forgot about Zayn._

Niall goes goes to his room, gets a little box from his nightstand, fills a thermos with some whiskey and walks to the door. He grabs slice of pie from the table and shoves it in his mouth before putting his jacket on and heading out.

"Be back in a bit," he whispers to the house, not empty but certainly not awake, even though he knows nobody hears him.

It's cold outside. There's a thick layer of snow on the ground, soaking his boots, a sharp wind in the air that's chilling his skin, but Niall keeps walking, clutching onto the thermos.

Niall walks around, finds Zayn next to a tree and sits in front of him.

"Hey babe," he whispers. "Merry Christmas."

Zayn doesn't answer him, so he continues. "I texted you earlier, when I was with the lads, they miss you a lot. I got you this, too," he says, pulling out the box from his pocket. He opens it, takes out the little stone angel and puts it in front of Zayn.

"My angel."

Niall takes a swig of whiskey, then another and another and another until his lips are numb and his hands are aching from the cold.

He finishes the bottle, head sinking.

"I was thinking about the first time you went to my place—Christmas, when you met my parents. They loved you—still love you." Niall plays with his fingers.

"I wish you didn't have to leave me so soon, Zayn. I miss you."

Niall looks up. Feels a single tear fall down his cheek, followed by two and three and four more, blurring his vision until he can barely see the words,

_RIP Zayn Malik, beloved son, brother, and friend._

_1993-2013._

"I love you, Zayn."


End file.
